Who's Teaching Here?

I asked my students to complete the following statement, "Digital learning means. . ."  A sample of their statements:

• Digital Learning means being able to share your ideas and thoughts with whomever you want, whenever you want.
• digital learning means being inspired by other's ideas.
• Digital learning means president Obama will answer YOUR questions on Reddit.
• Digital learning means instant access to information.
• Digital learning is when sensei and student become one with each other..

That last one is particularly interesting because it so closely mirrors my own statement:

    Digital learning means I am no longer the only teacher in the room

It is easy to look at the picture above and assume that I must be referring to computers as the "other teacher" in the room.  Sure.  After all, I certainly do not have all of the answers.  Never did.  The increasing presence of the internet and digital technology allows students to seek information and ideas beyond my knowledge base.  However, this is not really what I mean when I say I am no longer the only teacher.  In fact, I didn't really have machines in mind at all when I wrote my statement.  I was thinking about all of those other people in the room.

A good example of how teaching is suddenly more diffuse occurred when I introduced my students to Google+.  I projected onto the screen in the front of the room my Google Drive page and began walking them through creating a profile.  Two things happened almost immediately, both of which I expected.  First, students navigated through the profile set-up at varying degrees--some rocketed through it while others moved more tenuously, making sure that they were not missing any vital steps.  Second, there were questions.  Most of these revolved around the fact that I wanted them to immediately log into a community I created for the Digital Pilot we are taking part in at our school.  Now, here is where the other teachers come into play.

I am not that experienced with Google+, and I have no experience in creating a community.  As I bounced around the room, trying to find the most direct way for them to access the community, other voices began informing us of where to go.  Undoubtedly, I eventually would have figured out and clarified the process.  But that's the point.  I did not need to because a number of students in the room already had the information and were motivated to share.  While this might seem insignificant, I believe it is a crucial development that technology facilitates.  

I am not saying that students refuse to help each other in other classroom contexts.  In my literature classes, students have plenty of opportunity in small and large groups to help each other understand some idea or nuance in a novel.  More often, however, those discussions have an implicitly competitive nature instilled by me even if I don't realize it: discussion time becomes "I need to score points" time (in a figurative and sometimes literal sense).  Yes, there are those classes with just the right mix of personalities so that every discussion becomes a group effort at thinking deeply and engaging with provocative ideas.  But these are unfortunately rare.  More typical are the classes where a few students dominate and the rest require heavy-duty cajoling.  And, while the talkative minority are usually lovely, thoughtful people, their comments are directed at me, which I then repeat, paraphrase and generally rebroadcast for the class as a whole.

The significance of students helping each other with technology issues is that they did it without my prompting, directing the comments, or calling on people.  In fact, I could just as easily have not been in the classroom.  Instead of their communication passing through me, they spoke directly to one another.  

I can't help but think of how this student-student interaction that bypasses me, the "teacher," mirrors the "Read-Write" model of media production that Larry Lessig discusses in Remix and in his Ted talk, "Laws that strangle creativity."  Just as the internet and digital technology disrupts hierarchies and traditional gatekeepers in cultural production, it can have the same effect in the classroom.

This did not happen without a little anxiety on my part.  I have been teaching for 16 years; I have learned my role well.  But as I relinquish control, my students acquire ownership.  They become more genuine owners of the classroom and the learning that takes place.  This is why it is significant when one student offers assistance, advice, and recommendations.  The subtext of this kind of move is that they have something to contribute, they want to contribute, and they care about the smooth functioning of the class.  In short, it is the opposite of passively waiting to be told when and how to respond.  

And I love my role as a genuine learner.